GPS

"No. No! NO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" I was traveling down a busy street, unable to divert my eyes from the road to figure out why, all of the sudden, my GPS decided that I needed to go from the far right lane to the far left lane in less than 30 feet. At the next light I took a second to decide why my machine freaked out on me all of the sudden. After a quick glance at the turn-by-turn directions, it appeared as though the machine gained a brain of its own and decided to override my request to avoid the death trap that is I-71's construction zone.

This is just the latest of the many, many mishaps sponsored by Magellan. Back in June I decided that it would be in my best interest to get a GPS unit. I wasn't sure that I could trust myself to print and remember to carry a Google map with directions through two airports, a hotel, and a rental car. I was scared that I wouldn't be able to find the building where my interview would be held, so I went out and bought an item I swore I'd never own.

Since then, it's been nothing but "fun." Magellan has a habit of not telling me about turns until they're less than two seconds from happening, usually after it told me to go to the furthest point from that turn less than ten seconds prior. That's how I got stuck driving in circles around freeway exits one day for twenty minutes when all I wanted to do was get to my hotel.

For as much as Magellan "forgets" to tell me that I need to turn, it has no problem incessantly yelling at me for no reason on other occasions. "RED LIGHT CAMERA AHEAD! RED LIGHT CAMERA AHEAD!" That's what it was yelling at me today, instead of telling me that I was about to miss a turn. Thankfully, at least one of us was paying attention.

Living in a rural area, there's not much in the way of reception- my radio gets NPR, Southern gospel, and only two local stations during the drive to work. From 1/2 mile outside of Logan until 1/2 mile outside McArthur, there is no cellphone reception, leaving approximately 20 miles of silence. This lack of reception applies to Magellan also- it's worse than useless getting me from point A to point B anywhere south of Logan (which is pretty much most of my travel area.).

So why keep it? That's the question I ask myself every day. As much as I like playing with technology, I still prefer my paper maps. Magellan, I hope you enjoy looking at the inside of the glove box.

Big Happenings in a Small Town

Tuesday, we had all the components of a blockbuster here in Logan. Action, suspense, police, romance- everything. It was JUST like a movie.

I was so close to sleep- that happy state of being super tired but super comfy and knowing that in just a few minutes you'll easily be off to dreamland. Then, in quick succession- sirens, followed by the sound of screeching brakes, two booms, and more sirens. Needless to say, sleep was over for the time being.

The evidence of the action was easily viewed from the front window of my apartment. At the intersection was a semi and the remains of two cars. Car parts were everywhere. A fire truck arrived, followed by two police cars that literally skidded onto the scene.

Suspense was in the air, and people poured in from surrounding homes to stand at the scene and watch the events unfold. At one point, I counted thirty people standing at the curb. They stood with arms folded, occasionally gesturing to the scene of the accident or into the air as if they were making some great intellectual point. A short time after the accident, dogs showed up on scene. Were there drugs involved? No, some of the mini mob were out walking their dogs before they came across the accident, so a Basset Hound and a Schnauzer were included in the mix.

Then, out of nowhere- romance. What? Okay, so it wasn't anything thrilling. Turns out, two of the gawkers were a couple. When the police shooed the growing crowd back away from the scene so the tow trucks could move in, the couple walked hand in hand into Speedway to grab a cup of coffee before returning back to the curb to observe the cleanup.

Long story short, the events of the night were caused by a sheriff's deputy who was on his way to a call (hence the sirens) when a woman coming from the left hit the back end of the cruiser (boom number one), which sent it flying into the semi (boom number two). All that resulted in an hour of entertainment and, thankfully, no injuries. Clearly, it doesn't take much to entertain the locals (and myself) on a Tuesday evening.

Fall Freakout

There's a stretch of road on my drive to work that gives me pause every day. Normally my driving paranoia keeps my eyes plastered on the road, but here I give myself a split second to take in the panorama. What's so special about this particular piece of highway? It's the view. 360° of clear views over rolling fields and forest.

A month ago when I was still making the rounds and meeting everyone for the first time, my little piece of small talk was about how excited I was to see fall for the first time in three years. "How do you like the area?" "It's beautiful. I can't wait to see what fall looks like around here." That was a popular exchange. That was followed by, "How do you like living in the middle of all the trees?" "Oh, it's so pretty. I can't wait for the fall!" Yeah, I talked a big talk.

Labor Day weekend, I was driving with my brother on the way to pick up a friend for a golf outing. My eyes widened in horror as I noticed something out of the ordinary- the leaves weren't green, and a few of them HAD FALLEN TO THE GROUND! Then, when I got back to my apartment I noticed that the tree in my neighbor's yard had a touch of the yellow disease as well.

The trees weren't the only thing that seemed to be withering before my eyes. The beautiful, purple-mauve Joe Pye weeds that were growing along the side of the road were fading to brown and being replaced by goldenrod. In fact, all of the meadows were losing all colors but goldenrod. The few fields of corn that exist in Vinton County were changing colors the same way that my aunt and uncle's fields were- the tops were still vibrant, but they were scary shades of brown on the bottom.

I had my fall freak out that day. All of the sudden I no longer wanted to see the leaves change. I no longer wanted summer to end because that meant that winter was not far off, and I'm still not sure how I'm going to handle that season change. I have a little book of "Pearls Before Swine" that features the crocodiles. In one strip, the rat has convinced the crocs that tomato seeds are actually zebra seeds and if they pick the tomatoes before they're ready, the crocs would be killing the zebras. The last strip shows one of the crocs giving mouth-to-mouth to a tomato shouting, "STAY AWAY FROM THE LIGHT!" I felt like that croc. I didn't want the trees to die, I wanted to run around and stick the leaves back on the tree. I wanted to water the flowers and make them pretty purple colors again. I was out of control.

Thankfully, my fall freak out only lasted a few days and now I'm back to enjoying everything I like about fall. The days are just warm enough to enjoy sans jacket, the skies are clear blue almost every day, and the trees are turning the gorgeous shades of red, orange, and yellow that I missed for three years. And that panoramic view? I can't wait until it's peak color season. Fall freak out over, I can now turn my attention to the next problem: cold weather. Ladies and gents, I was spoiled by South Carolina, and I'm going to miss my 70° Decembers.

My Family

Family reunions seem to be a love/hate situation for a lot of people.  Me? I love them. The people who go to the Bird/Forbes Reunion know how to cook, and the snarky hecklers in attendance always make the business meeting exciting. The Brown Reunion usually contains some form of wild entertainment, whether my Uncle Jeff convinces his sheriff buddy to show up and “question” my Aunt Kooks about her “meth lab,” my Aunt Mindy chases my mom around the park and threatens her for having given bad information that led to a hilarious yet incorrect assumption, or my Uncle Bill throws bean bags at my best friend’s head. (And those are just the things I can talk about in public.) The Henry Reunion, however, is a completely different atmosphere, and for that reason I adore it. This year was the first time I had been to the reunion in three or four years, and I am so glad I went, because by the end I thought, “This is what I want for the rest of my life.”

I want my family’s kindness. I could forget any of the negativity that has been thrown my way in recent days, weeks, and months- there was none of it here. No gossip, no sidebar conversations talking about what so-and-so did and to whom, no unnecessarily sharp words. I’ve been around these individuals long enough to know that like everyone else on the planet, they have their trials and struggles, so I know it wasn’t fake kindness trying to cover anything. No, there was genuine care and concern for ailing family members, pure joy over impending nuptials, shared happiness over important accomplishments, and thankfulness for good reports of improved health. This is the kindness that is born from an inner peace and joy, and rarely have I seen it displayed so well.

I want my family’s ambition. My great-great Aunt Stella was one of the first people in her county to own an automobile, and certainly the first woman. She did this on the salary she earned from teaching at the schoolhouse. After a few years of teaching, she went to college (Majored in Home Ec., minored in Spanish because she was interested in missions work), got married, and had a family. I feel like these are huge accomplishments for a woman in her day, but in a booklet written about her life it was mentioned that she felt like she wasn't doing anything of eternal worth- she wanted to do more. My grandpa’s cousin Bob went to school to be a veterinarian, finished, and practiced for eight years. Now, developing an allergy to cats and horses along the way probably wasn't in the plan, but it didn't matter in the end. The man got his doctorate in philosophy so he could teach at the college level.  Oh, and he still works extensively in the plasticization of animals (think those “Body” exhibits that were popular awhile back) for learning purposes, something that has literally taken him all across the world. My cousin Annie teaches English. Let me add to that- my cousin Annie teaches English to university students in China, something she’s done for years. This barely scratches the surface of the incredible things the people in my family have done.

I want my family’s faith. This is what stands out to me the most every time I visit with the Henrys. They praise God for the happy times in their lives, they rely on Him during sicknesses and death. They make a habit of encouraging the younger members to follow God in all things.  I’ll never forget going to a funeral for a family member and hearing that there would be a time of worship.  The bulletin read, “Join us in worshiping God for the life of…” Yes, there were tears, but there was so much hope and joy in that time of mourning that it really didn't seem like a time of mourning. This faith isn't just limited to the many members of the family who serve as pastors and missionaries and it isn't weak. It’s clear and evident in the lives of so many Henrys, all because each generation has taken the time to show their faith and make sure their children were introduced to God so that they could claim that faith as their own when the time came.

I want to keep writing about this family, but I’m short on the words that would adequately express the respect and admiration I have for my relatives and my pride for being part of this family; and I don’t have time to write about the humor, the hobbies, and all the other little details that make this family so special. With that said, it’s now time to get ready for family to visit my apartment this weekend. A month in the new place and I’m still only half-unpacked!

Ruler of all I Survey

There are a few reasons that I like my upstairs apartment. I like that I have a large bedroom, a living room, AND room for an office; I actually enjoy the fact that I have to run up and down stairs whenever I come or go, but most of all I enjoy the fact that I have a bird's eye view of everything.

Now, don't get the impression that I'm looking over anything particularly grand. In fact, to my south is a Speedway station. Out of my office window, I see the red glare of the sign every night around eight o'clock. That's not particularly appealing, but when I get writer's block it provides a level of people watching that is unmatched. Logan sits at the edge of two state parks, so there is a lot of out-of-town travel in the area. Simply by watching the way the customers walk in and out of the store I can tell who is local and who is a tourist. Most of the time I can tell the difference by waiting to see if they stop in the middle of the parking lot to talk to a friend they saw walking out of the store. It happens more than you'd think.

To my east is another set of upstairs apartments. In my apartment, there seems to be little to no rhyme or reason when it comes to which windows have blinds and curtains, and which ones have only a valance. When it comes to the living room, every window has either blinds or curtains except the window that faces due east. You know, the window that lets the strongest sunbeam in every morning; and the window that lets my neighbor who lives across the street a clear view into my apartment. I put my tall plant in that window.

Out my bathroom window, I can see the top of downtown Logan. Surprisingly, there are a lot of three and four story tall buildings for such a small town. I'm guessing most of them were built in Logan's heyday. The courthouse is one such building, and it has a flag post situated on it's top. I like being able to see this flag, because I can always tell which way the wind's blowing. It's a little thing, but it's nice to know which windows I should shut before it rains!

I think I mentioned that Logan sits at the edge of two state parks. This, in addition to the fact that Southeastern Ohio is heavily forested anyways, means that beyond all the "stuff" in the way, I get to look out at a gorgeous landscape each and every day. Every night since I moved in, I've been able to watch the last fading sunbeams set the western sky and the rooftops of all the houses in between aglow in a rich, gold light.

The apartment's not perfect, and I always imagined myself in a more rural setting rather than just above a busy city street, but I can tell that spending this chapter of my life in this apartment will be quite an enjoyable experience.

The Holes in the Story

"Well, the cover story has a few holes in it, but I think it's still passable at this point."  This was a line from an e-mail I sent to a co-worker regarding the surprise party we were hours away from throwing for our boss.  Earlier in the day, we decided that a cover story was needed to explain away the mounds of food that were being carried into the clinic via nurses, admin, and nutritionists.  We usually bring homemade lunches to work, but those come in cute, flowery bags and not Pyrex and Tupperware.  We usually bring sandwiches and side dishes, but those sandwiches do not require a pound of shaved roast beef or sliced cheese, nor does it require a large helping of potato salad.

The story started off innocent enough.  After all, it had to be simple and repeatable and one that made sense, even when it didn't.  (I may have been a little enthusiastic about the idea of creating a cover story.)  After a short discussion, the story emerged:  Since a few of the nurses in Family Planning had birthdays in May, we as a clinic decided it would be nice to have a small party at our staff meeting day.  Simple, right?  It made sense too, because we try to have parties once a quarter or so and they always happen on staff meeting day, which is a half day of work.

It only took about twenty minutes for the first hole to appear.  Our boss walked in about the same time one of our nurses walked in with all the ingredients for her favorite cream cheese spread.  I shook my head, because of all the people Kristi could have run into, she ran into the one person who wasn't known for keeping quiet.  To her credit, she tried to explain away her food.  However, she explained the ingredients (cream cheese, crackers, and jalapeno jelly) by saying "I'm hungry because I didn't have breakfast." 

At this point, we decided that the ruse was worth keeping up, because if there's only one crazy person, you can explain them away.  This is when the second hole was discovered.  Remember those nurses whose birthdays we were celebrating?  We don't normally make the birthday people bring food, but as we attempted to explain why we were having the party the door to the refrigerator was opened in front of my boss. Lo and behold, there sat a 13x9 pan of roasted chicken with the supposed birthday girl's name written on the sticky note affixed to the lid.  

The third and final hole in the story came about the time one of our regional staff appeared.  Tracy doesn't just "show up" at a clinic unannounced, she always has a specific purpose.  Believe it or not, showing up for random birthday parties during a staff meeting is not a specific purpose for her!  Thankfully, Tracy called before she came to tell us when she would be arriving, and knowing this we had people posted at the front door who could whisk her to the site of the party.  This would have worked out really well if Kristi had just stayed in her office.  If.  It was at the very moment Tracy walked in the front door with a dish of homemade potato salad and a large planter of flowers that Kristi decided to walk to the front of the clinic.  Oops.  One of my more alert co-workers saw this and motioned for Tracy to hide, which she did.  When we finally got Kristi out of the way, I went into the lobby to find that Tracy had hidden in the family bathroom in the lobby. It's quite a sight to see a respected supervisor peering out through a tiny crack between the door and its frame, wondering if the coast was clear.  

When it was all said and done, the cover story was almost unnecessary.  You see, we were having so much fun setting up for the party that we forgot to keep quiet as we set out the food and decorations.  This is a big problem, especially when the party room is right next to the boss' office.  Silly workers...  

Do you like your job?/Don't make rash decisions

Every so often people ask me: "Do you like your job?"  If a client is asking me that, it doesn't matter if I'm having the worst day of my career,  I always say yes and I always think of at least two things that make my day bright, lest I give them the idea that I'm yet another in the long line of grumpy government workers.  If it's a new acquaintance, I try to give more highlights than anything, but I occasionally throw in a cringe-worthy story or two for the sake of levity.  If you're a close friend or family member, I will tell you every terror tale I have, mainly because I can.  Today I asked myself "Do you like your job?"  The answer to that question gave me the topic for today's post.

Without crossing the line into HIPAA-violation territory, let me just say that I had a very interesting group of children today.  In the twenty minutes they were with me there was almost non-stop kicking, hitting, and spitting; and no small amount of wailing and screaming.  Oh, and that was just the kids.  The parent was responsible for yelling, threatening, and exasperating.  I went into that encounter with my clients as a happy and smiling person.  I came out vowing that I would never have children and even went so far as to text my mom and tell her that the hope for grandchildren was growing evermore dim.

After my half hour recovery period, I had a slightly more positive outlook on life- one that included a slightly higher probability of me having children someday.  I was even chuckling to myself, thinking "This is why we don't make big decisions after one bad experience!" Imagine all the things we'd miss out on if we gave up after a traumatic experience.  I would not be able to ride bikes had I sworn off riding after I lost control of my cousin's bike and knocked out two teeth as I fell.  I would not be able to drive a car had I sworn off driving shortly after I got my permit and almost hit a car in the oncoming lane by over-correcting the steering wheel when I turned left at a stop sign.  (There are very few times I remember my Dad shouting at me.  That was one of them!)  

My thoughts on the negative aspects of rash decision-making led me to my thoughts on whether or not I like my job.  Not only has this topic been on my mind today, it's been something I've pondered frequently these last few weeks and have had difficulty answering at times.  But as I cleaned my office and got everything packed away for the day, I continued lightheartedly repeating the following mantra: "Today was not the norm, today was not the norm.  You cannot make decisions based off of today alone!" So for the present, I like my job.  It's frustrating at times and infuriating at others, but by and large it's a funny place that gives me great fodder for my future book about humans and their distinctive personalities.  And that decision has been two-and-a-half years in the making!

Well, speaking about work, I have a long list of projects that need finished before I head back in the a.m.  Sadly, we're having a goodbye party for a beloved colleague and I have to finish prepping a few items for that.  Tomorrow I may not like my job...haha.